


love is natural and real (but not for such as you and i, my love)

by Larry_Fly_Home



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anniversary, Bottom Harry, Established Relationship, Fashion Designer Harry Styles, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Louis travels a lot, M/M, Miscommunication, They're in their 30's ???, Top Louis Tomlinson, like-they're married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:26:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28008411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larry_Fly_Home/pseuds/Larry_Fly_Home
Summary: “Well it’s not like it makes a difference. You’re never here, why should I sleep with you tonight when you’re just going to leave me again tomorrow?”or, the one where Harry's a fashion designer, Louis travels a lot for work, Niall has weird advice, Liam has witnessed them fuck way too many times, and it's all kind of hectic.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	love is natural and real (but not for such as you and i, my love)

**Author's Note:**

> hiii. okay so, this is the first fic i'm posting, please be nice ! The title is from the song I Know It's Over by The Smiths ! Sorry about any and all mistakes, I'm new at this aha.  
>  Please Enjoy! All the love, C. x

The door swings open and Louis braces himself for the impact of Harry’s body colliding with his; but it doesn’t come. Louis purses his lips and drags his suitcase inside, kicking the door closed behind him “H?” he calls, but he doesn’t get a reply. Maybe he’s napping. Louis peeks into the kitchen and the lounge on his way past but harry isn’t there, so Louis makes his way up the stairs and drops his bag in the hallway. “Harry? Are you up here?” 

His black Audi is in the drive so Louis knows that Harry's here, unless he’s gone for a jog.  
“Louis?” Harry stumbles out of their bedroom, hair soft and messy on his shoulders, cheeks pink. “Oh.” Harry says, stepping into the hallway and smiling at Louis.   
“Hey baby,” Louis grins, stepping closer to Harry to pull him into a hug. Harry’s a bit stiff in his grasp, but he squeezes Louis back and snuggles into his neck. Louis pulls back and kisses Harry softly, lips gentle against each other. Harry doesn’t reciprocate the kisses but Louis doesn’t think much of it.

“Did you miss me?” Louis asks when he pulls away and Harry still hasn’t said anything.  
“Of course,” Harry hums, twirling his finger in the hem of his shirt.  
Louis smiles and waits for harry to say something else, but he doesn’t, so Louis advances forward and tries to pull Harry’s shirt off.  
“I- Lou,” Harry says, letting out a half-hearted giggle, but Louis just tugs until Harry lifts his arms and Louis pulls his shirt off completely. Louis smiles and kisses Harry’s shoulder, hands on his hips, turning him around to push him up against the railing by the stairs. Harry grunts as Louis pulls him back a bit, until his chest is pressed onto the railing.  
Louis hums, running his fingertips softly over the light stretch-marks climbing Harry's back, skin having stretched to accommodated his height.

“You’re so pretty,” Louis murmurs to himself, thinking out loud, and Harry mewls, breathing in deeply and pressing back into Louis’ touch as Louis’ hands move down from the small of his back to hold his hips. “All pale and silky,” Louis breathes, fingertips digging in just slightly, pushing Harry forward so his stomach presses into the railing instead of his chest.  
“Who gave you the right to be so pretty, Harry?”  
“N- i- Lo- hnghh,” Harry grunts, arms working until he grips the railing with his hands, pushing himself up so his back is pressed into Louis’ front.  
Louis raises his eyebrow as harry grabs his wrists from his hips and pulls Louis’ arms around his waist, but he doesn’t say anything.  
“I’m not pretty,” Harry says decidedly, and Louis feels his stomach flip when harry sighs.  
“No, you’re not,” Louis huffs, and he feels harry stiffen in his arms. “You’re beautiful, H.”  
Louis smiles into Harry’s neck gently, wrapping his arms around him tighter.

“You’re so beautiful.” he places a soft kiss against Harry's neck and rubs his thumb in circles against the swell of Harry's stomach.  
“What are we doing, Louis?”  
“What?” Louis exhales with a hint of laughter in his voice.  
Harry sighs and turns, but doesn’t shake Louis’ arms off; He wraps his own arms around Louis’ shoulders and looks into Louis’ eyes, his naked chest pressed into Louis’ clothed one.  
“I just,” Harry pauses, and Louis can tell that he’s trying to gauge his mood.  
“I miss you.”  
“H, I’m right here.” Louis says, lips unconsciously pinching. Harry sighs and looks away, dropping his arms from Louis’ shoulders.

“Right, but how long is that going to last?” harry stares at Louis for half a second after saying that, and then he turns around and walks away, head hanging, his shorts low on his hips, skin flushed the light pink it usually is when he’s sad. Louis stares after him in confusion; he’s been away for two weeks, harry should be happy to see him, not trying to pick a fight.  
“Harry,” Louis calls, but the door’s already closed.

It’s an hour later and Louis’ just got out of the shower in the guest room.  
Over the years, Louis’ realised that when Harry is upset, he needs time to cool off before he can talk.  
Louis’ suitcase is still discarded in the hallway, and he pulls out a pair of his clean boxers and a black t-shirt before he walks back to the guest room to get dressed.  
He hears soft footsteps on the stairs and when he shifts to look out the door, he sees Harry’s curls descending down the stairs.

Louis runs his hand through his hair and then gets up to follow Harry downstairs.  
He’s wearing a soft pink sweater over his shorts now, and the apples of his cheeks are flushed red from crying. Louis knows him so well.  
“Baby,” Louis whispers, and Harry snuffles, avoiding Louis’ eyes as he pours himself a glass of water. Louis doesn’t touch him because he knows Harry doesn’t like to be touched when he’s upset. And he’s clearly upset.

“I’m sorry, my love.” Louis says, scratching the back of his neck so he doesn’t reach out to touch Harry. Harry takes a shaky breath and looks at Louis, tears in his eyes.   
Louis’ stomach twists and he instinctively takes a step forward, but Harry bites his lip and then drops his glass onto the counter, tucks a stray curl behind his ear and looks back at Louis.  
“No, don’t be sorry. I know you have to travel for work, Louis.” his voice is heavy and emotional and Louis knows there’s something else bothering him. 

“I think I want to stay the night at Niall’s,” Harry says, not meeting Louis’ eye. “What? Harry, baby,” Louis starts. “I just got home today; don’t you want to spend the night with me?” Harry's bottom lip trembles and his hands shake as he tries to compose himself. “Harry.” Louis’ hurt, is the thing. He can tell there’s something bothering Harry; could tell since the second he stepped into the house and Harry didn’t come rushing to hug him like usual. But he’s hurt because Harry is the love of his life, and Louis needs to spend time with him before he leaves for work again. But there’s something- and Louis’ scared because what is it? Harry was hesitant when he kissed Louis, when he hugged him, hesitant to even take his shirt off. And of course, Louis’ brain is his worst enemy, so the first thing that pops into his head is that Harry’s cheated on him.

“Har-”   
“Louis, I’m going to Niall’s,” Harry interrupts him, the tears slipping down his cheeks as he pushes past Louis. He doesn’t even fetch his shoes or his phone, he just goes straight to the door and leaves, closing it gently behind himself.   
He’s got his extra toothbrush at Niall’s anyway since he sleeps over so often.  
Louis stares at the door for at least five minutes before he feels the feeling clawing at his chest, the pressure in his throat.

To Niall:  
Hey Ni. Please let me know when harry arrives. Any idea what’s up with him? 7:46pm.

Louis gets into their bed (Their big, cold, empty bed since Harry isn’t there to take up ninety percent of it.) and for the first time wonders how Harry does it. How he manages with Louis’ travelling, and Louis realises that Harry probably spends so much time at Niall’s when he’s away so he doesn’t have to stay at their house alone. And then Louis feels absolute shit because obviously Harry isn’t coping with Louis’ being away all the time.

From Niall:  
hey lou!! happy ur finally back. Haz arrived a little while ago. I do know what’s wrong but that’s not my place to say. He’ll tell you when he’s ready. Have a good evening m8:) 8:23pm

Louis trembles with worry, hating the fact that Harry isn’t in his arms and that he doesn’t even know what’s wrong. Evidently, Louis doesn’t have a good evening, He has an absolute shit evening.

Louis wakes up just after nine, throat dry and head pounding. he’s hungry, too, since he didn’t eat dinner, and just grumpy. He misses Harry; the last two weeks the only thing he wanted to do was wake up next to Harry, share a gentle morning kiss and hold him. But the first day back and Harry’s not even in the same fucking house as him.

Louis thinks about texting Harry, but just then he spies Harry’s phone on the bedside table on his side of the bed. Louis bites the inside of his cheek and shuffles over, picking the phone up and switching it on; him and Harry sharing a kiss on Harry’s birthday a few months ago is still the background of his phone, and Louis pouts because he wishes they were there again. Harry’s hair was up in a messy bun, a soft black cotton shirt on his shoulders and a tiny tiara in his hair. Louis misses him. Louis puts Harry’s password in and goes straight to the gallery, scrolling through the pictures of them and smiling softly when he finds one Harry must’ve taken the day before Louis left. It’s of Louis sleeping on the couch, Harry’s shirt on Louis (Because Louis had lost his shirt in their bathroom-sex rendezvous) and his fringe is hanging over his face softly. Louis shakes his head and swipes to the next picture, which is a selfie Harry had taken with Louis eating a banana in the background.

From Niall:  
Harry on his way back. didn’t sleep a wink last night. Sort it out. I miss my Haz. 9:43am

Louis switches Harry’s phone off again and gets out of bed, heading downstairs and pours himself a cup of coffee.  
The house is so quiet. Normally at this time, Harry would be making pancakes, or sausage and eggs in the kitchen while listening to Kings Of Leon or whatever they’d be playing on the radio. Louis almost jumps out of his skin when the front door opens. Harry walks in, a jacket that obviously belongs to Niall on his shoulders, and he doesn’t notice Louis.

Louis stands and takes a step toward Harry, who’s busy taking the jacket off. “H,” Louis sighs, and Harry jumps, drops the jacket on the floor. He turns to look at Louis with big eyes, red and puffy. Still beautiful as ever. “Oh,” Harry croaks, dropping his eyes from Louis’. “Harry, please tell me what’s wrong,” Louis pleads, forcing himself not to step closer. Harry chokes and steps back, backing into the door. Louis watches him, confused and hurt. 

“Baby,” Louis’ voice cracks and he swallows thickly. Harry ignores him and Louis sighs, moving to walk away. “Lou,” Harry cries, making Louis stop in his tracks and turn around. “Please,” Harry weeps, covering his face and sinking to the floor. “Harry, I can’t fix whatever is bothering you if you don’t tell me,” Louis murmurs as he crouches in front of Harry. “Just,” Harry chokes. He stands up quickly, wiping his face, and Louis stands up after him. They’re toe to toe, nose to nose, and Louis stares into Harry’s crying eyes. “Baby, please,” Louis coos, and Harry moves forward, wrapping himself into Louis. Louis hugs him back hard, running his hand over Harry’s hair, kisses his temple and squeezes his waist reassuringly. “I love you, Harry.” Louis whispers. “Do you?” Harry cries, sounding hysterical. “Of course I love you, Harry!” Louis says, a little offended that Harry would doubt his love. “I love you so much.” Harry sobs into Louis’ chest and clutches his shoulders. “I love you,” Harry hiccups, and Louis sniffs. “Do you?” He repeats Harry’s words with uncertainty and Harry stiffens. “Of course I do, Louis. I just,” he pulls away and looks Louis in the eye.

“I saw an article and pictures,” his voice cracks and he clenches his jaw before he continues reciting. “An article about how ‘The husband of Harry Styles, fashion designer, was seen out and about in London with an unknown man while supposedly on a business trip.’ And pictures of you having dinner with him.” Louis furrows his eyebrows and stares at Harry. “I didn’t-” Louis stops short, remembering. “Oh. It was the first night I left. I went to dinner with my boss, Tyson, before we left for Manchester? Harry,” Harry's cheeks are bright pink, eyes wide, lip trembling. Louis almost laughs at how ridiculous this is.

“Harry,” he says again. “did you think I cheated on you?” Harry bursts into tears and wraps his arms around himself. “Oh my god, Harry,” Louis sighs, grabbing the bottom of Harry’s sweater. “I would never, Harry. You know that. I thought you had cheated on me yesterday when you left like that,” Harry looks up at Louis, horrified. “No-”  
“I know you wouldn’t, H. And I wouldn’t either.”  
“I’m sorry,” Harry sniffles. “No, I get it, I understand, Harry.” Louis pulls him into a hug and harry trembles in his arms. “I love you, Harry.”

It doesn’t really get better after that, though. They spend the rest of the day on the couch, eating takeaways and watching ridiculous daytime telly. They sit on opposite ends of the couch and they don’t look at each other and Louis hates it because tomorrow he’s got to go to Wolverhampton for two days and he doesn’t want to leave Harry on bad terms again. But Harry doesn’t say anything, doesn’t indicate how he’s feeling at all, doesn’t even look at Louis. He makes Louis tea without asking and gives Louis his cell phone when it rings, but he doesn’t talk. But it’s not like Louis’ trying to initiate anything either, though. Harry falls asleep on the couch and Louis smiles down at his sleeping face gently. When it’s gone 10pm, Louis tries to wake harry up, (Because even though Louis likes to believe he can carry a sleeping Harry up 17 steps, he really can’t, and he wouldn’t even try after the last time when they both ended up in the ER) but Harry huffs and turns over.

“H, come to bed,” Louis murmurs, but Harry ignores him. “Harry, come to bed.” Louis says again, and harry sighs. “I don’t want to,”  
“You’re going to sleep on the couch?” Louis snaps, getting annoyed when Harry doesn’t reply. “Harry, I’m leaving for Wolverhampton at 11 tomorrow morning. If you don’t come to bed you’ve not slept by me the whole time I’ve been back and you wont get to until I’m back again.”  
“Well it’s not like it makes a difference. You’re never here, why should I sleep with you tonight when you’re just going to leave me again tomorrow?” Harry lets out, but he doesn’t look at Louis. Louis stares at the back of Harry’s head, his head pounding, heart in his throat.

Louis leaves for Wolverhampton without so much as a word uttered from either him or Harry. Harry doesn’t even come downstairs when Louis leaves. Louis tries to put it out of his mind on the car ride with Tyson, but Harry’s the only thing Louis ever thinks about, and Tyson never talks about anything other than his dog. So of course Louis’ in a foul mood the entire two days in Wolverhampton, and he almost bites the head off of the client they meet when she asks about Louis’ wedding ring. Tyson laughs it off, saying Louis’ missing his partner a bit, so they should excuse his hostility, but Louis just feels like screaming. He doesn’t hear from Harry either, like he usually does when he’s away, getting texts and selfies and links every five minutes. His phone is silent apart from the odd text from Liam or Amanda or Niall.

When he gets back to London, he doesn’t even go home. He gets a taxicab to Liam’s and spends the afternoon there. “What’s with this?” Liam asks eventually, gesturing at Louis’ suitcase and dishevelled suit. “Why haven’t you gone home yet?”  
“I think Harry wants to break up,” Louis sighs, hand raking through his already mussed up hair. Liam bursts into hysterics, coffee spilling out of his mouth. “Are you having me on, Louis?” Liam shrieks, and Louis glares at him. “Louis- fucking Christ. Harry doesn’t want to break up with you.”  
“Yeah? How the fuck would you know?” Louis snaps. Liam fixes Louis with a ‘watch your shit’ look and points at the phone in his hand.

“Firstly, he’s been fucking spamming my phone for the last three hours.” Louis raises his eyebrows and Liam smiles. “He’s worried sick. Wants you home.” he shrugs. “But why has he been acting like he hates me for the past few days, then, Li?”   
“I dunno. you’ll have to ask him.” Liam replies. “You don’t think I have?” Louis snaps, and Liam sighs. “Just get lost, Louis. Go home to your boy and sort out your shit.” Louis opens his mouth to say something but Liam narrows his eyes before he can get it out. “God, Louis, honestly. you’ve been in a relationship with him for nine years, married to him for four of those years. you’re thirty-two god damn years old, I honestly thought you’d both be more mature than this.” 

It’s after 6pm when Louis reaches home. The house is dark except for a light on the top floor, their bedroom. Louis closes the front door softly, dropping his suitcase before he walks toward the stairs. He hears water running and he smells Harry's body wash. Harry’s in the shower, then. Louis pulls his tie off, shrugs his jacket off and kicks his shoes off when he enters their bedroom. He plans is to wait for Harry to finish in the shower and then have a shower himself, make himself something to eat and then go to sleep (in the guest room) because he’s exhausted. The last three weeks he’s been travelling non-stop, been home no longer than two days at a time and he’s not relaxed at all. But now, he has two weeks off from his travelling, and tomorrow is Saturday; Louis’ going to relax. Harry finishes in the shower five minutes later. Louis watches the bathroom door until Harry comes out with a towel around his waist. He stops when he notices Louis, and they stare at each other. Harry’s cheeks are red and his eyes are puffy. Louis gulps.

“I was just waiting to use the shower.” he says. “there’s no shampoo in the guest one. And I need to wash my hair.” Louis explains and Harry sighs and moves past him. Louis gets up and moves toward the bathroom door, a heavy, stinging pressure behind his eyes. “Lou,” long, warm fingers wrap around Louis’ wrist, causing him to stop and turn around to look into Harry’s eyes. “We need to talk.” Louis’ stomach drops because, are those exact words not the ones in every cliché breakup scene of every horrible drama movie ever made? “You can shower first,” Harry adds, and Louis scowls at him “There’s no way I’m showering now, Harry. Just fucking get it over with,” 

Harry looks taken aback, but he lets go of Louis’ wrist and sits at the end of the bed. Louis stands away from him, not meeting his eye. Louis can feel the pressure behind his eyes, the clawing in his chest. Harry's going to break up with him. “Lou,” Harry says, and Louis looks at him slowly, clenching his jaw to stop the trembling. “I can’t do this any more.”  
And there it is.   
Louis feels like his stomach has dropped out of his body, his heart is beating poison through his veins; he feels like he’s drowning. “I can’t deal with it when you’re away. I hate your job,” Harry adds, talking at his hands now, not looking at Louis. “Like, it actually really messes with me when you’re away, because I need you right here with me, you know I need you when I have my episodes, and when you’re away it doesn’t work. And I’m sorry, I know how important your job is to you, but I hate it so much.” Harry breathes and Louis stares at him, mouth agape.

Harry looks up at him and he flushes, lip twitching in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I know how -”  
“Wait,” Louis interrupts, and Harry trembles. “You’re upset about my job?”  
“Y-yeah… what else would-”  
“So you’re telling me that you don’t want to break up with me?” Louis says, heart racing. Harry’s face twists in disgust. “What? Of course not! Louis,” he stands and grabs Louis’ hands in his.

“Why would I want to break up with you?” he scoffs, and Louis looks away.  
“Honey, oh no, I’ve just been upset about your job. Lou, I’d never dream of breaking up with you.”   
“Why does this whole thing feel extremely familiar,” Louis huffs, remembering the confrontation him and Harry had days ago about cheating. Harry gives Louis his lopsided grin and kisses the side of Louis’ mouth, moving his arms to around his neck.

“Hm. I dunno,” Harry breathes.  
Louis almost cries, but instead he buries his face into Harry’s soft neck. “I also hate my job. I’ve been wanting to ask Tyson to let me stay here and manage the London branch full-time for a while. But I thought you enjoyed the time apart.” Harry guffaws and clings tighter to Louis. “No, Lou, I hate the time apart.”  
“I do too.”

They snog for bit before Louis showers, and Harry makes them ham and cheese toasties for dinner while he waits. Louis comes downstairs in his batman pants and a black long sleeve. Harry’s in his pink panther pyjama shorts and his pink cotton shirt and Louis loves when Harry wears pink. “Made us a toastie,” Harry says, and Louis grins at him. “Honestly, there’s something else in this room that I’d much rather eat.” Harry blushes and his eyes almost pop out of his head as he scolds Louis. “What? I’ve gone almost three weeks without you. How do you want me to feel?” Harry guffaws and wraps himself around Louis, kissing his neck. “Wait until after dinner, at least.” Louis pouts into Harry’s neck but nods nonetheless. “Sure.” They settle on the couch together, a blanket covering their legs and their plates of toasties and chips on their laps while they watch something on Netflix. After the movie, their plates discarded somewhere, (possibly under the couch), Harry leans into Louis, entwining their fingers under the quilt. Louis watches him from the corner of his eye; he knows exactly what Harry’s doing. Louis’ been in love with Harry since they were 20 and 22. 

(When Louis was 23, he finally grew a pair and asked Harry out. (They’d been friends for a few years, having met in university when Louis ran into Harry outside of his history lecture, spilling his hot chocolate all over him.) Anyway, Harry had said yes to the date, and five years later, when Louis was twenty-eight and Harry twenty-six, Louis asked Harry to Marry him and obviously, Harry had said yes.)

So Louis knows Harry ‘fairly’ well. And this thirty year old minx sitting next to Louis has been using the same old tricks since their third date.   
Harry moves their entwined hands up, making as if he’s trying to scratch his own leg, and then he shifts their hands back, right into Louis’ crotch. Louis bites back his smile because, yep, he knows his boy so well. Harry ‘yawns’, stretching his arm out and in the same movement losing grip on Louis’ hand, and when he drops his hand down again, this time without Louis’, he’s able to cup Louis’ bulge ‘discreetly’. But Louis knows him so well.

Harry palms Louis through his pants for a few minutes until Louis is rather hard, and then he removes his hand and looks up at Louis. Louis pretends to watch the credits roll down the screen while Harry stares at him. And then Louis lets the smallest smile out and Harry chirps before he scrambles onto Louis’ lap, straddling him and pressing his hips into Louis’ stomach. Louis smiles up at him and grabs his hips while Harry tries to get comfortable. His long, Bambi legs are not the easiest to manoeuvrer at the best of times, so he struggles for a while until he successfully shoves his arse onto Louis’ crotch comfortably, and then he looks down at Louis with a fond smile. “Y’know how hard it was for me not to text you the last two days?” he sighs, and Louis pouts. “It was very hard. Like, I’m so used to sending you stuff every five seconds, but I wasn’t going to break my own rule. It was so hard, though.”   
“It was also hard for me, H! I almost murdered our client yesterday because she asked about my wedding band!” Harry lets out a breathy giggle and grinds down onto Louis’.

“M’sorry, Lou. But I was upset and I didn’t know how to act.”  
“I understand babe, it’s okay,” Louis replies, dropping his head into the crook of Harry's neck. “I really missed you. I was so hurt, lost, I didn’t know what to do. I thought I was going to die if you broke up with me,” Louis’ voice jumps and he stiffens, willing the uncalled-for tears to disappear. He hasn’t cried since his mum’s funeral a year ago, so now really isn’t the time. “I-I’m sorry, Lou, I didn’t- I wasn’t thinking,” Harry sniffs, rolling himself against Louis. “But lets just forget about it, please,”

Louis nods against Harry’s shoulder and rubs senseless shapes into his hips, holding his breath. “Love,” Harry says, and Louis lets out a deep breath before moving back and looking into Harry’s eyes. “I’m sorry. Please, forgive me.”  
“Baby, no, there’s nothing to forgive. You shouldn’t be sorry, H.” Harry pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and frowns at Louis.  
“Please, baby, forgive me. I should be sorry. That conversation was long overdue.” Harry smiles softly and moves down to kiss Louis. “Love you.”  
“Love you more.”

Harry doesn’t let up on kissing Louis. He stays firmly sat in Louis’ lap, kissing him gently, and then rough and needy and then back to gently, and Louis lets him, because he knows it’s what Harry needs, and honestly, it’s what he needs too.  
Every now and then Harry will grind his hips down, tug on the small tufts of hair at the nape of Louis’ neck, suckle on his tongue and it’s driving Louis insane. It’s been almost three weeks since he and Harry made love and fuck if Louis’ not missed him. “Harr-” Louis grunts when Harry pulls back for a breath, but harry dives right back in, cutting him off. He smiles against Louis’ lips and scratches Louis’ scalp gently and then pulls back slowly, eyes crossing as he tries to look into Louis’.

“Hi,” he breathes out, lips swollen and pink and shiny. Louis smiles up at him and pinches Harry’s hip, his other hand sliding up Harry’s spine slowly, and Harry blushes because it’s one of his favourite things; when Louis touches him all over, softly, tracing his fingers along Harry’s skin like the softest breeze. Louis brings the hand that was resting on Harry's hip up to cup his cheek softly, and Harry leans into the touch as Louis’ other hand gets to the back of his neck, hovering for half a second before he traces his fingers to the front of Harry’s throat, down the centre and into the v-neck of Harry's pink cotton shirt. 

Harry shivers and closes his eyes, fisting Louis’ shirt. Louis watches his face as he drags his forefinger along his collarbone, over his shoulder and then back down his spine, over the shirt. When he reaches the small of Harry’s back, he brings his other hand down too and cups Harry's love handles gently, giving a soft squeeze so Harry will open his eyes. “Lou?”   
“Yeah baby, ’m ’ere.”  
Harry grins loosely and slumps against Louis, arms going around his neck. “I wish we weren’t so old,” Harry says absently, and Louis chuckles loudly. “Yeah? And why’s that, baby?”

“Well, like, you can’t carry me up the stairs any more. We’ll both probably break something. And you can’t hold me, um, up against the wall any more or-or in the shower...” Harry trails off awkwardly and Louis bites his lip to stop the laughter. “Harry, we’re thirty-two, not eighty-two.”  
“Um, you’re thirty-two. I’m only thirty. I could probably do all of that, it’s you who can’t, grandpa.”

Harry giggles and Louis almost breaks his face from smiling so hard. “I bet I could still hold you against the wall. And in the shower. And, I mean, the last time I tried to carry you upstairs we were both ill with the flu, so, we were weak. Lets try again,” Louis says adamantly, and Harry lifts his head to give Louis a questioning look. “Come on, Harry!” Louis declares, and Harry just shakes his head with a tiny fond smile on his lips. “No, Lou, I’d rather walk up the stairs and have sex instead of have you try to carry me upstairs and us both end up in the ER again.” Louis gasps and wraps his arms around Harry's waist firmly, spreading his legs even more to get more leverage for when he stands.

“Louis don’t you dare!” Harry shrieks when Louis heaves them up, hands firmly grasping the back of Harry’s thighs. Louis just grins into Harry’s neck and shuffles his feet to steady himself. Harry wraps his long legs around Louis’ waist and holds on snug, fingers pressing into his shoulders tightly as Louis jostles his hands under Harry's thighs again and hefts him up higher to get a more secure grip. In the very beginning of their relationship, Harry spent at least half the amount of time being carried like this, or shoved up against the wall, so they’ve had a lot of practice, but they’ve not done it in ages so his concern is understandable.

“You alright?” Louis grunts, hands flexing underneath his thighs. Harry squeaks and wraps himself tighter around Louis. Louis’ biceps are bulging, but he’s had his fair amount of practice what with his little sisters, those few gym sessions with Liam and all the previous times him and Harry have done this so really, he’s not under a lot of strain.

“Right, well, get ready,” Louis says airily as he steps toward the stairs. Harry laughs against him, the deep rumble in his chest resonating through Louis, giving him goosebumps as he ascends the stairs, one step at a time, clutching his boy to him tighter with each step. “We’re doing it,” Harry breathes when Louis reaches the sixteenth step and Louis lets out a bark of laughter. “Of course we are,” he says as he steps onto the landing, walking to their bedroom. “We made it, without a scratch,” Harry smiles into Louis’ neck and pushes the door closed when they get into the bedroom for no other reason except pure habit,, because as much as Harry enjoys the exhibitions, he’s not too keen on having his friends, family or gardener see him and Louis at it again.

Louis steps up to the end of the bed and sets Harry down gently, bending down over him to kiss him. Harry giggles into Louis’ mouth and grips into his shoulders, legs still loosely wrapped around Louis’ knees. Louis kisses Harry teasingly, pulling away to stare at him before ducking back in repeatedly, hands resting beside Harry's hips on the bed to hold himself up. “Louis,” Harry snaps impatiently when Louis pulls away for the umpteenth time. “Are you going to fuck me, or what?”  
“Of course not, do you think I’m an animal?” Louis deadpans, attaching himself to Harry's neck. “Louis!” Harry squalls. “We’ve been together for nine years, why would fucking me make you an animal, for god’s sake?”

“I’m going to make love to you, mate.”   
harry stares at Louis for exactly eleven seconds before going beet red. “Did you just call me mate.”   
Louis stares at Harry with wide eyes, ready to jump away if he decides to throw a slap, because it’s happened before when Louis’ called him bro.  
“Louis,” Harry grits, eye twitching. “Do-”  
“Baby, i-” Louis interrupts, laughter threatening to escape alongside his words. “I’m sorry,” Harry glares at him and bites his lip, hands resting against his thighs dangerously.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to- I don’t know,” Louis giggles, and harry smiles at him, trying to look angry. “I hate it when you call me mate. That period just before you asked me out was so awkward and you kept calling me that.”   
“I know, love,” Louis chuckles, leaning back in to press his face into Harry’s neck. “It was really awkward but I was so scared that you’d reject me. And, Niall did say that ‘the best way to a man’s heart is by calling him mate’.”  
“And you took dating advice from Niall because?” Harry laughs, curling his fingers back into Louis’ hair. “Because you were extremely charmed by me and had literally no sense left in your brain.” Harry answers his own question, pressing delicate kisses just bellow Louis’ ear. Louis hums in agreement and climbs onto the bed in between Harry’s legs, pushing him down gently. “Honestly-” Harry grunts, spreading his legs so Louis can get comfortable in between them. “Honestly, Niall's got the weirdest intuition. I think he was a deranged scientist in his past life,”

Louis grunts his laugh, forearms resting on either side of Harry’s face as he sucks love bites into his neck. “Maybe, but we really shouldn’t be talking about Niall- or any other people- when I’m about to stick my cock up your arse,” Harry guffaws and slaps Louis on the back, cheeks going red. “Louis, that’s filthy.” 

“So? it’s exactly what we’re about to do, what am I supposed to say?” Louis chirps, rocking his hips down. Harry tries to say something but his voice sticks, so he has to clear his throat. “I don’t know. Just – just -” Harry’s sentence is cut of by the dirty moan that leaves his lips when Louis juts down into him again. “Just what, my love?” Louis teases, pulling off so he’s not touching Harry at all except where the tops of his thighs are pressed to the inside of Harry’s. 

Harry moans weakly and raises his hands from his sides to grab Louis’ neck, pulling him down for a sloppy kiss, mostly tongue and teeth. “Make love to me, then.” Harry murmurs against his lips, lifting his hips slightly to find friction against Louis’ equally hard erection. Louis bites Harry’s bottom lip seductively and presses his hips down, pinning Harry’s to the bed as he runs his fingers through Harry’s hair.   
“You sure?” he asks, because even though the first time they had sex, on their third date, Harry made sure to tell Louis that he can do whatever he wants whenever he wants, Louis’ protective and afraid to hurt him. So he asks because apart from it being polite, it’s also a habit.  
“Yeah,” Harry breathes, turning toward Louis’ hand to press a kiss to his wrist. “Want you to love me, Lou. Please.”

They can’t find the fucking lube.  
Despite Harry’s insisting that he left it in the middle drawer of Louis’ bedside table, it’s not there. Louis glares at him from where he’s hunched over his bag searching for it next to the bedroom door. Harry pouts at him sheepishly, burrowing back into the pillows. “I swear, Lou, I didn’t touch it-” Harry makes a startled, choking sound in his throat and Louis looks at him, alarmed. “What, babe, are you okay?” Harry goes beet red and bites his lip nervously, avoiding Louis’ eye. “Harry.” Louis says sternly, and Harry shakes from nerves mixed with arousal mixed with anxiousness. “I was – I used it in the, um, the bathroom last week. Left it in the drawer with the extra condoms,” he folds into himself and gazes at Louis expectantly. Their whole relationship, Louis’ been very dominant in the bedroom, but not overly-so. 

He likes it when their things are in their designated spots, likes it when harry is slightly ‘submissive’, delicate, soft. He likes to take care of Harry, in simpler words, and Harry knows that Louis expects him to leave their stuff where it’s meant to be, to not forget when he leaves their lube in the bathroom. “M’sorry, Lou,” Harry says shakily, smiling to himself because he knows it gets Louis off when he apologises plenty. “I’m so, so sorry, Lou, I didn’t mean to, I promise, i-i-” Louis interrupts him with a laugh, puckering his lips. “It’s okay, baby, don’t worry.” he walks toward the en suit but stops next to the bed before he goes through the door. 

“C’mere,” he gestures, and Harry scrambles to kneel on the bed in front of Louis. He shakes with want as he presses his chest into Louis’, hands gripping onto Louis’ hips. Louis watches him closely, not moving his own hands from his sides, and Harry blushes, ducking his head down. “Love you,” Louis says, ultimately lacing his hands together at the small of Harry’s back. “Love you so much.” Harry keens, nuzzling his nose into the soft speckle of grey hairs above Louis’ ear. (They’re hardly there, you wouldn’t be able to see them standing two feet away, the caramel of his hair still prominent, and Harry loves that he’s the only one who gets close enough to see them.)

“L-love you m-more,” Harry stutters. He always gets jittery at times like these; intimate times.  
Louis tuts and moves his hands to the swell of Harry’s bum, squeezing gently before pulling away and walking into the bathroom to retrieve the runaway lube. “Next time, if you use the lube and I’m not here, you tell me, okay?” Louis calls from the bathroom, and Harry nods as he settles back into the pillows. It takes him embarrassingly long to realise that Louis can’t see him, but just as he opens his mouth to agree with Louis, he walks out of the bathroom, lube in his hands. Harry watches with spiked interest as Louis throws the bottle onto the end of the bed, starts pulling his shirt up. “What’re you looking at, Baby?” Louis teases, dropping his shirt. Harry smiles and bites his lip, stomach already swirling. “Well?” Louis tuts, gesturing at Harry. “Are you going to get your kit off or what?” 

Harry starts by shoving his shorts off, kicking them away from himself toward the edge of the bed. He twists acrobatically to heft his top off, but has to stop because the quick movement gives him a cramp in the shoulder. Louis laughs and mutters something close to ‘and you call me old’.  
Just as Harry tosses his shirt away and settles back against the pillows, Louis throws himself onto the bed, stark naked, a shit eating grin on his face. “I’ve missed you,” Louis coos, hand trailing up Harry’s long, pale legs. Harry blushes and rests his fingers in Louis’ hair, about to reply.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Louis’ hand worms under Harry’s thigh and wriggles at the crease of his arse, tickling the skin where his thigh turns into arse. Harry laughs loudly and tugs Louis’ hair playfully, squirming away from his finger. “I thought you were going to say you missed me,” Harry whines, pouting. “I did,” Louis smiles up at him, hand now resting gently against the inside of Harry’s thigh. “I did. I missed you so much,” Harry scrunches his nose to fend off the tears, trailing his hand down from Louis’ hair to his neck. “I love you, Lou.” he purrs, and Louis grins at him. “I love you, too.”

Louis starts with playful kisses along Harry’s shin, hand rubbing the inside of his knee soothingly. Harry watches Louis with a small smile on his lips, cock thickening at the feel of having Louis touch him so. Louis glances up at him through his eyelashes, palming himself inattentively before crawling further up the bed, hovering over Harry. Harry’s legs widen to accommodate him, and Louis settles in between them merrily, hands holding him up next to Harry’s hips. Harry smiles up at him as he scoots down the pillows onto his back, hands light on Louis’ neck. “So,” Louis starts, placing a kiss on Harry's chin. “What-” Harry wraps his legs around Louis’ waist and pulls him down, making Louis’ arms collapse so all of his weight is on Harry. “I don’t want to talk, Lou.” he murmurs, legs tightening as Louis tries to lift up. In the end, he just rests on his forearms, face inches away from Harry’s.

“I really don’t want to talk.” Louis quirks his eyebrow and nuzzles into Harry’s neck, shifting his hips slightly, rubbing his hard prick into Harry’s own. Harry lets out a breathy moan, gulping before he surges up to suck on Louis’ bottom lip. Louis smiles into the kiss before kissing back hungrily, taking control instantly as Harry goes pliant beneath him, turning into putty; Louis’ little doll. Louis rubs against him teasingly, because he knows teasing is something Harry secretly loves, but he’s only doing himself in, he’s way too hard to tease. Harry mewls brokenly when Louis grinds down especially hard, and Louis feels a wave of heat wash over him. Harry curls his fingers into Louis’ hair and grinds his own hips up, hills of his feet pressing into Louis’ arse almost painfully.

“Lou-,” Harry chokes, pulling away from the kiss, chest heaving. Louis nips at his jaw and sucks a bruise into his neck, almost too out of breathe to last. Before Harry says it, Louis pulls away to grasp the lube, almost diving back in between Harry’s legs. Harry lets out a breathy laugh and lays back, watching as Louis uncaps the lube, drizzles it over his fingers and peeks up at Harry mischievously. Harry rolls his eyes as Louis pokes his tongue out, nose lifting cheekily as he strokes Harry’s cock delicately, fleeting.

He moves his lube-covered hand between their bodies and rubs at Harry’s hole, gently because he knows Harry’s sensitive. Harry watches him adoringly, eyes blown, lip between his teeth as Louis gently presses his digit in, slowly, slowly, down to his knuckle. Louis smirks and leans up to pull Harry’s lips from his teeth with his tongue, and Harry shudders beneath him, arms tightening around Louis’ neck to keep him there, kiss him. It’s a little bit of a challenge for Louis, having to hold himself up with one arm while the other one wriggles between their bodies, but he’s had enough practice, and Harry’s little sounds and his wet hot kisses are enough of a distraction.

Louis works his second finger in and twists them, avoiding Harry’s prostate for the last minute. Harry licks into Louis’ mouth, tongue persistent, pressing, lapping and trailing over Louis’. Louis’ hot, arousal making him dizzy, stomach twisting with heat. Harry purrs beneath him when Louis crooks his fingers, stretching his walls out, silky smooth. When Louis works his third finger in, Harry moans dirtily into his mouth, head falling back and his hand falls from Louis’ hair, down his chest until he gropes Louis’ aching cock, stroking him firm and tight in his fist like Louis likes, thumbing under the head, to relieve some of the pressure that’s surely there. Louis falters in his movements and lets out a groan of his own, body coming unbelievably hotter as Harry pulls his hand away. 

Louis forces his eyes open to watch as he curves his fingers into Harry’s spot, almost laughs when Harry does exactly what he knew he would; his eyes flutter closed as his head flings back, mouth open wide, noisy cries escaping his lips as he scrunches his nose in pleasure and claws at Louis’ back, his nails like little bites into Louis’ overheated skin. When Louis moves his fingers away from his prostate and scissors them, Harry tries to catch his breath, pulls Louis down for a sloppy kiss.

He’s about to mumble against Louis’ lips that he’s ready, but Louis knows, so he shushes him with his tongue and pumps his fingers several more times before drawing them out slowly, kissing down Harry’s neck as he wipes them against the sheets. Harry watches Louis breathlessly as Louis searches for the lube, and Harry bursts out laughing when Louis curses because he can’t find it. He shifts a bit and shoves his hand under his back and pulls the bottle of lube out, “Must’ve rolled under while you-” Harry pants, and Louis snatches it out of his hand, grinning down at him as he pours a load into his hand and covers his aching red cock, tugging himself a few times and letting out over-dramatic groans as Harry gawps at him hungrily. 

Louis falls forward again, catching himself on his forearms and presses his lips to Harry’s, waiting as Harry licks against them before opening his mouth. He kisses harry lazily for a bit, trying to calm them both down because they’re too turned on and they’re likely to have a heart attack (Harry’s said so before.) Louis pulls away and just stares down at Harry’s face, cheeks flushed, mouth slightly open, eyes closed. There’s these little crinkles at the side of Harry’s eyes, and Louis’d never say, but he can also see a few greys at Harry’s temples. 

His boy's lips are blood red, nose pink at the tip, and there’s a soft white scar above Harry’s left eyebrow from when he was trying to hang that picture frame in the kitchen when they first moved in and it fell out of his big dopey hands and nicked him right above the eyebrow. There’s sweat on his forehead and upper lip and Louis leans down, sucking Harry’s bottom lip into his mouth delicately to make Harry mewl. Their breathing has calmed and Harry isn’t so red any more.

Louis twists his arm in between them to grab the base of his cock and almost hisses at the contact, before he presses it against Harry’s hole and presses forward slowly, and all the air is squeezed out of his chest, out of his brain, out of his soul as he bottoms out, hips pressed flush against Harry’s arse, Harry’s legs wrapped lovingly around Louis’ hips, arms around his neck. Louis waits a while, letting Harry adjust and relax around him, until he gives the sign; a tap to the back of Louis’ head and a shift of his hips. 

Louis grins against Harry’s lips and draws back, cock almost slipping out of Harry, and then he pushes back in, jolting Harry up the bed with a broken cry. Harry scrambles to twist his fingers in Louis’ hair, head thrown back as Louis rocks into him slow and steady, completely opposite of how they usually do it. Harry breathes heavily into Louis’ face, their breathes mingling in between them like raindrops falling into a swimming pool, and Louis’ ridiculously close to coming already. 

“I-I’m-” He breathes, and he knows if Harry was more coherent he’d make a comment about his age, but Louis wouldn’t even care because he knows Harry loves him no matter what. Harry lets out a shout as Louis grinds into his spot, body absolutely trembling. Louis tries to say something again – he’s not sure what – but opens his eyes instead, meeting Harry’s almost completely black ones with a surprised and extremely hungry groan. “Harry,” Louis cries, hips jack-rabbiting into Harry quickly. Harry moans in reply, shoving his own hips back to meet Louis’, pulls him down to attach their mouths in a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss that mainly consists of tongue and hot breath. 

“I’m gon-” Harry cries, the tears rolling down his cheeks as his head jolts back when Louis changes the angle and drills right into his prostate with each thrust in. (Louis would deny it if he was accused of trying to make Harry come first.) Louis feels his stomach tense, the tips of his ears go red, and he comes, pressed deep into Harry, eyes squeezed shut as whimpers leave his mouth. Harry clenches around him, milking him dry and Louis’ body quivers as he rides out his orgasm. While Louis’ still pulsing into Harry, he wraps his fist around Harry’s hot prick and strokes him delicately, grinds his hips round in a figure 8 like Harry likes, and Harry freezes, body tensing as he shudders and shoots onto Louis’ hand, his own chest.

Louis collapses onto Harry’s chest while Harry still spasms around him, breathing heavily, eyes shut while he listens to Harry’s ragged breathing for a beat before pulling out gently. Harry plays with Louis’ hair mildly, hands running up from his back into the sweaty strands repeatedly while they catch their breath and Harry sniffs, still crying. Louis falls into a semi-conscious state with his love beneath him, all around him, and he feels Harry’s skin chill, feels Harry press soft kisses to his head, feels Harry hold him tightly. He remembers the first time they made love and how Harry cried after, how He had to hold him so tightly, remembers when he started crying too, and how they cried together. Harry’s always been emotional during or after sex, and Louis’ always loved that about him. Louis opens his eyes and sees the goosebumps on Harry’s chest, feels how cold he is himself and tries to sit up, but Harry holds him tightly. 

“Tell me,” He whispers almost silently, and Louis frowns in confusion. “Hm?”  
“Tell me,” Harry repeats louder, and Louis says “I love you,” On a whim because Harry needs to be reminded that He’s loved often. He shudders against Louis and kisses his head, drawing Louis’ head up so he can kiss his lips. “I love you too,” he says, satisfied, and lets up on his grip around Louis. Louis sits up and gazes at Harry’s ruined form, smiles. “let’s get into the shower, baby,” Harry climbs off the bed slowly, grimacing at the slick running down his thighs and seeping into the quilt.

“Go on,” Louis says, pushing Harry toward the en suit gently while he rips the quilt off. Louis gets a clean one out of the linen closet in the bedroom, throwing it messily onto the bed before he chucks the dirty one into the laundry basket. Harry’s already in the shower, head ducked under the water. Louis climbs in behind him and wraps his arms around Harry’s waist, kissing the back of his neck. Harry presses back into him and smiles to himself, Happy that Louis’ home and holding him.

They wash each other in turn, gently massaging the shampoo into their hair or running the flannel across their chests, and when they’re done, Louis slips into his pyjama bottoms and Harry into his shorts, and they climb into bed, Louis folded around Harry like he has been since day one, with their fingers laced and resting on Harry’s stomach.

Louis talks to Tyson over the phone the next morning. “I want to stay here and manage the London branch full time, Tyson.” Louis smiles at Harry from across the room, watching as Harry wipes down the counter slowly, eyes on Louis. Louis hums into the phone and looks away, focusing on what Tyson is saying. “Yes, please.” Louis hangs up five minutes later and purses his lips. Harry watches in dismay, waiting for Louis to tell him what Tyson said, because he doesn’t know what he’d do if Tyson said no.

“Well?” He tries, and Louis looks up at him, eyes bright. “Well. He said yes!” Harry screeches and runs across the room, jumping into Louis’ arms and rushing to kiss him. Louis laughs excitedly and twirls Harry around, peppering kisses over his face. “I just hope you don’t get sick of me being here all the time,”  
“Of course not,” Harry guffaws. “As long as we fuck every night.”

“Oh my god!” Harry and Louis leap apart in fright, whipping around to see Niall and Liam standing at the door. “Hearing you guys talk about it is almost worse than actually seeing you do it.” Liam gags and walks into the room, and Louis instinctively stands in front of Harry, seeing as he’s only wearing his tiny fucking pink shorts. 

“Louis, mate, if I wanted to ogle Harry, I’d do it every time I wake up at three in the morning to see him asleep on my couch naked. He spends ninety percent of his time at my house, and he’s always naked.” Niall shakes his head, Liam laughs, Harry blushes and Louis scowls. “And I’m straight. Remember.” Louis rolls his eyes and pushes Harry toward the stairs, “Put some clothes on, love.” When Louis turns around, he glares at Liam just because. “I’m straight, too.” He defends, and Niall guffaws. “What are you guys doing here?” Louis sits on the couch next to Niall and looks up the stairs, already missing Harry. “We got noise complaints from your neighbours last night,” Niall smirks, and Louis almost laughs. “Right. What are you really doing here?”

“We came for lunch, since it’s what friends do, innit?” Liam interjects, and Louis shrugs just as Harry comes down the stairs with a hoody on.   
“Did you guys hear?” he asks, settling on Louis’ lap. “Zayn and Gigi are pregnant!”  
“Oh my god!” Niall says, clapping his hands. “That’s fabulous,” Liam grins, pulling out his phone, and Louis nuzzles into Harry’s neck. Harry giggles and leans back into Louis’ chest just as Liam puts his phone onto speaker, the ringing loud. ‘hello?’   
“Hey Zayn! We heard about Zigi being pregnant!”

Three weeks later it’s Harry and Louis’ 10th anniversary. They spend the day at home, having slow sex in every room, eating ice cream out of plastic cups and chips out of the packet, then they watch rom-com's in their bed. It’s perfect, it’s what they do on this day every year. At 9pm, they go for dinner at the restaurant just down the street from where they had their first apartment together, get drunk off of cheap champagne and too much dessert, before making their way home to make love in the kitchen. (Sex in the kitchen isn’t something they do every year, they just didn’t make it to the bedroom this year…)

The next day they have a cook out with Harry’s mum, Niall, Liam, and some of their other friends, and fall asleep in front of the fire after midnight.   
They leave for Barbados the next day, where they will be spending the next two weeks to celebrate their 10th anniversary. (maybe Louis plans to break Harry’s back, maybe not.) On the plane, Harry stares out the window, watches Louis sleep and plays on his phone most of the time. He’s never been to Barbados but he doesn’t like planes, can’t sleep on them, and today he's feeling especially jumpy and nauseous.

When they arrive, they have dinner on the beach front and watch the sunset before making their way inside and sleeping for ten hours straight. They spend most of their time in their rented beach house, on the beach and in town since it’s both of their first times in Barbados, and they eat way too much, drink even more and maybe fall in love even more. They have way too much sex than what can possibly be healthy, but who cares. Harry’s a nice tanned sort of pale, hair long and soft and wavy, while Louis’ a very tanned colour, hair soft and feathery, scruff almost a full-on beard when they arrive back in London. Louis’ got to go back to work the day after they tomorrow, since they arrive back on Saturday, and Harry’s got his show where they’ll be modelling his new collection later that evening. Harry models his favourite outfit and smiles proudly down at Louis in the crowd, before making his way back to change. Afterwards he mingles with fellow fashion designers and his models, and then him and Louis take a long stroll down the streets, coats pulled tight around themselves to shield the cold October weather. And then Harry and Louis make their way to their own house, up the stairs and into their bedroom where they fall asleep in each others arms, the rain falling against the window with soft patters. Words are murmured softly just before they both drift off to sleep, hands laced together tightly because if they can have it their way, they’ll never let each other go.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading! i hope it wasn't too terrible !


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